


What Comes After

by MTriniSepulveda (WriterOfStories)



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Aftermath, Funeral, Main character death but it's only briefly mentioned, Other, What comes after, the them's children, very short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-21
Updated: 2020-01-21
Packaged: 2021-02-27 10:22:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,085
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22341748
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/WriterOfStories/pseuds/MTriniSepulveda
Summary: Adam passed away on the evening of his 93rd birthday.He was found seemingly fast asleep, sitting on his armchair, by his goddaughter Annie.Or, 82 years (four generations) after the Armaggenot, Adam finally gets to sleep.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 48





	What Comes After

Adam passed away on the evening of his 93rd birthday.

He was found seemingly fast asleep, sitting on his armchair, by his goddaughter Annie, Pepper’s only child, after she and her cousins finished washing the dishes used for the cake.

The funeral had taken place near his home, in Lower Tadfield, and the whole town was present. All of his friends had gone before him, but their children ––who had been his family as he never had kids of his own–– and their children filled five full rows. The town had always liked Adam and the Them, and most attended to all of the other funerals. He had gone to London for college but gone back to live in Tadfield right after; the others had only gone back when they began to have kids. They had decided that it was the perfect place, mainly because they knew that if anything happened, Adam would be there. Some of the neighbors, young couples that had found him a charming old man, sat in the rows behind the family. Then there were the newer people in Tadfield, those who had only moved recently, but that knew him just as well. The last couple of rows were filled with people of all ages and that didn’t seem to know anyone around them. They were all students he’d taught throughout his life. Adam had been the most-liked professor at the college he taught, only a thirty-minute drive from his house. He believed that children were more important than anything else and had made his students realize that they actually were. There were tears, and wet laughs, and half-choked sobs. The younger who didn’t understand death had simply stood there, holding their parents’ hands concerned as to why they were crying. The older ones, the ones who had grown up thinking of Adam as their great grandfather who did impossible magic tricks, had tried to be composed but crumbled when Annie stepped up to a small podium to talk.

_I think he’ll be mad at us,_ she had started as her eyes scanned the crowd, _because he never liked going to church… but I think it’s fitting that we do it in the same place we said goodbye to my parents, to Wensley, and Brian. I think he’ll appreciate that._

Annie failed to spot the two people she had been looking for as her own grandchildren clutched to her dress, tears cascading from their eyes. Her eyes scanned the reception, set in Adam’s house, impatiently as she thanked people for their condolences. Her cousins, all six men, had been fading in and out of the room. As if taking turns to be brave outside. Annie couldn’t blame them as she was the only one who got to say goodbye before Adam fell asleep in that worn armchair of his. One of her granddaughters, a seven-year-old curly-haired spry girl, went up to her and tugged at her skirt.

She leaned down far enough for Erin to whisper in her ear, “There’s two men out front.”

“Thank you, I’ll go see them.”

Skillfully, Annie weaved through the people to avoid talking to them and made a bee line to the front door. In the garden, inspecting the roses, was a man with fiery red hair and tight black clothes. Next to him, chuckling at the former man’s comments, was a man dressed in clothes that seemed to be from the 1800s. Crowley and Aziraphale hadn’t changed since Annie last saw them five years ago, for her own mother’s funeral. She cleared her throat and looked at them tersely.

“You’ve missed the funeral. Again.”

Crowley turned to look at her and cocked his head to one side, “You’re the one holding them on churches.”

Annie lasted one more second with her lips tightly pressed into a disappointed line before the corners of her mouth tugged upwards. “Glad to see you… Can’t stay long, I presume?”

“Sorry, my dear.”

She waved the apology away. She climbed down the two small steps and hugged both of them briefly, taking in the scent of smoke and pies knowing that it would be a while before she saw them again. “Don’t be strangers,” she muttered against Crowley’s chest.

The demon ran a hand down her curly hair, a copy of her mother’s, and whispered, “Never.”

As she let go, she gave them one last smile, and the two watched her walk away, closing the blue door behind her. Crowley glanced at Aziraphale’s sad expression, he hated funerals, and squeezed his hand slightly before letting go and walking away. “They’ll be okay… Let’s go, angel.”

The two immortal beings climbed on the Bentley, still in pristine condition after almost 170 years, and as Crowley turned on the car and Queen started to faintly play, the he glanced at the rearview mirror and smiled. In the back seat sat Brian and Wensley, fast asleep against each other, and Pepper asleep as well against the opposite window. Between them was Adam, just waking up, and looking just like he did for Armagenot. Wild blond curls, bright blue eyes, and ready to go explore.

“How was my funeral?” Adam grinned tiredly.

“Don’t know,” Crowley huffed a chuckle as he pulled out of the driveway.

“I’m afraid Annie held it in a church, once again.”

Adam sighed and shrugged, “Too bad… It was probably awesome.”

The two beings chuckled quietly, as to not disturb the other sleeping eleven-year-olds. Adam plucked the sword made out of sticks and strings from Pepper’s loose grasp and placed it on her lap. Brian’s wooden scales were on the floor, and Wensley’s stick-crown was slipping off. Dog was yawning in Adam’s lap before resettling and going back to sleep.

“You can sleep if you want,” Crowley told him, glancing briefly in the mirror, “we have another hour of driving.”

The kid nodded and resettled, letting his eyes fall shut and his breathing slow down. The people in London would soon notice that the odd couple that lived just above that weird old bookshop-that-doesn’t-sell had adopted four rambunctious kids that played around all day. It would be long, maybe two generations later, that the six would become a story ––a myth, that all London residents knew of but weren’t sure if it was true or not. But at that moment, during that car ride, they weren’t a myth just yet.

They were a demon, an angel, and the four horsemen of peace, quietly watching the trees go by.


End file.
